


The Art and Science of Soresu

by Cobalt_Djinn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones
Genre: AU from Council scene, Competent Jedi, Eventual Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Angst, M/M, Qui-Gon Lives, TPM fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobalt_Djinn/pseuds/Cobalt_Djinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan is indeed ready for to become a Knight, though the accidental breaking of a one-sided Life-bond have some lasting complications. Qui-Gon attempts to salvage the situation by building a relationship from unrequited love. Through it all, Obi-Wan finally learns the value of patience.  (AU from the Council Chamber scene in TPM)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Present, Naboo cruiser, bound for Naboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you prick us, do we not bleed?  
> If you tickle us, do we not laugh?  
> If you poison us, do we not die?  
> Master, Master, even Jedi cry.

Dazzling starlight was the first thing Obi-Wan saw as he surfaced from his meditation. Starlight, and utter darkness. He was alone in the small cabin, the rare privacy during mission another gesture of sympathy from the Council. In hyperspace, the stars turned into brilliant streaks of fire, reminding him yet again of what he had lost. He was cold, and hollow as space.

Drawing his cloak tighter together, he turned his eyes away from the viewport. With the overhead light off, he could barely make out the outlines of the sparse furniture: pitifully small bed, bedside table, cabinet, all bolted to the floors or walls in case of gravity field malfunction. The astro-engineers of Naboo were a foresightful lot. In any case, it mattered little whether he could perceive the objects with eyes. He _saw_ them well enough with the Force, as clearly as he saw the cavernous darkness in his own mind where once it had been aglow with starlight.

He cheeks were wet. Startled, his hand flew to his face. It was icy beneath his fingertips, frozen over like the rest of his body. He chilled easily in hyperspace, so the tremors that wrecked his body did not surprised him. The tears did. Try as he might, he could not recall the last time he wept. Obi-Wan inhaled shakily and bowed his head, giving himself one opportunity to mourn his loss before he began releasing his grief. More unwanted tears slid down as he remembered the bond that once resided in his mind. It was warm and luminescent, one of the few truly beautiful things he had owned. Now it was lost.

Every cell in his body seemed to echo the vast void of the universe outside.


	2. Obi-Wan Kenobi, one cycle ago, Jedi High Council Chamber, Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then poor Obi-Wan!  
> And yet not so, since I am sure my love’s  
> More ponderous than my bond.

The last ray of the Coruscant sun flooded the Council Chamber, turning the room a burnished gold. Obi-Wan felt a small ‘nudge’ from the Force. He did not understand the reason, but he followed the suggestion regardless. Stretching out with all six senses, he delighted in the beauty of the Moment: the sunlight danced on duraplex windows and kissed his brow; the Force pulsed and hummed in the presence of thirteen masters; Qui-Gon standing by him, regal even in his indignation, connected to him by a beautiful, golden thread. He stored it carefully into his memory. Somehow, this moment was infinitely precious.

Facing the twelve Council members unflinchingly, Qui-Gon Jinn placed his hands on Anakin’s shoulders and calmly announced “I will train him then. I take Anakin as my padawan learner.”

Mace Windu opened his mouth to rebuke the maverick Master, but was stopped by the almost audible _crack_ of the training bond snapping. Qui-Gon reeled back as if slapped, while the apprentice swayed for a moment on his feet, face pale with shock, and then crumpled to the ground with a blood-curdling cry. 

For an infinitesimal moment, something pulled in Obi-Wan’s mind, stretched impossibly taut by two forces moving toward opposite directions. Then it gave. Agony beyond imagination raced through every nerve cell, setting every synapses aflame. A dozen of daggers, white hot, seemed to be carving his brain open, stabbing repeatedly at the spot where a vibrant training bond used to lay. The pain eclipsed all other physical sensations and devoured all coherent thoughts. Distantly he heard a hoarse yell over a sea of urgent voices, but even the awareness of that receded. There was only him and the fire. He burnt. Oh how he burnt.

Then years of survival training finally kicked in, spurred by the intuitive knowledge that his sanity would not survive such pain much longer. Gathering his scattered concentration as best he could using his Master’s baritone as an anchor, Obi-Wan forcibly encircled the raw abraded areas in his mind with durasteel walls. The wounds were beyond his ability to heal, but more than once during his apprenticeship management of persistent pain had been a matter of life and death. He let go of all his privacy shields, redirecting the freed energy toward building the emergency construct. With each shield he successfully erected, he became more aware of his surroundings.

He took stock of his physical condition when the pain was finally damped down into a raging migraine. Drenched in cold sweat, his body was alternatively too hot and too cold. Obi-Wan trembled uncontrollably, every muscle aching from prolonged convulsions. There were several hands on his body, some supporting his head, some holding down his limbs, some lending him strength. His moved his head minutely, wanting to speak, and was rewarded by a wave of nausea so intense he blindly turned onto his belly and retched. When there was nothing left to expel from his rebellious stomach, Obi-Wan collapsed onto his elbow, panting harshly.

When his racing heart slowed somewhat, Obi-Wan sank into the Force, drawing on the Unifying energy for healing and fortification. It did nothing for the headache or chill, but the overall weakness diminished. 

He then attempted to assess his mental condition. Looking inward, it was immediately apparent that something was missing. A black hole sat behind his emergency shields, leaching warmth and strength and light. Oh Force!

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Qui-Gon’s pallid face, a mixture of distress and relief tightening his features. Anakin, forgotten during the momentary crisis, stood clutching Qui-Gon’s robe in a white-knuckled grip. That tableau of a Jedi Master and his future apprentice, more than anything else, gave Obi-Wan the necessary strength to brush away Qui-Gon’s hand and push himself to his feet. He wrapped his arms around his body and tugged his hands into opposite sleeves, feeling more chilled than could be accounted for from lying on the tiles. Yet he refused to draw any more attention to his weaknesses. He would not burden his emphatic Master with his suffering, even as his soul quailed at the sudden emptiness within. Steering his focus from the anguish gripping his heart, he schooled his face into impassive facade.

The councillors, once sure that he would not be immediately fall down again, resumed their seats. “Padawan Kenobi, do you understand what happened?” asked Master Poof, sounding gentler than Obi-Wan had imagined possible, though the Quermian equivalent of a frown he directed toward Qui-Gon could only be termed thunderous. 

Voice modulation was one of the first lessons in diplomacy. Obi-Wan brought all his skills to bear to prevent his voice from shaking. “Yes, I understand. Our training bond is broken.” And although he had realised this as soon as he felt the connection tore, his heart clenched at the finality of the words. To be simultaneously bereft of his Master and his apprenticeship! There were ritual words to mark a padawan’s acceptance of his repudiation, and gut-wrenching though they were, Obi-Wan would say them if only to ease the guilt his Master was no doubt experiencing. “Master Jinn, I thank you for illuminating the way of the Force for me. You have honoured me with twelve years of guidance. I now relinquish my rights and responsibilities as your padawan. May the Force always be with you.” He then bowed first toward Qui-Gon, then toward Anakin, using the motion to obscure the quivering of his lips he could not wholly conceal.

A most peculiar expression crossed Qui-Gon’s face, only to disappear before Obi-Wan could decipher it. Qui-Gon opened his mouth as if to reply, but was interrupted by an impatient Mace Windu. “Anakin Skywalker, please wait outside the chamber while the Council settle some internal matters. Guardian,” he gestured toward the sentinels guarding the entrance, “escort Mr. Skywalker to the antechamber and find him something to eat and read.”

Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon reassured Anakin with a few whispered words before the Guardian led the young boy out of the room in the way one would stare almost unseeing at a holovid after a long, trying day. A blanket of detachment born of extreme fatigue and emotional upheavals was beginning to descend upon Obi-Wan, distorting his focus and leaving him feeling overwrought and off-centered. 

As soon as the heavy door closed behind them, Qui-Gon whirled toward the Council. When he spoke, his tone had lost its assertiveness but gained a measure of urgency. “What happened, Masters? It wasn’t just the severance of a training bond,” he winced slightly. “I only experience some disorientation…”

“Now you question the wisdom of your action, Master Jinn?” Master Koth retorted testily. The fact that he did not bother to conceal his ill-temper spoke volume of his opinion on Qui-Gon’s repudiation of his pupil. With a vague sense of fascinated horror, Obi-Wan wondered what must have happened to rob all Council members of their famed composure. “Such thing was usually done with the _approval of the Council_ and the presence of mind healers for a reason.”

“A training bond it was not,” said Master Yoda, who had remained seated during the entire episode. Obi-Wan saw all remaining colour vanished from Qui-Gon’s features at the pronouncement. “The beginning of a Life-bond, it was, on Padawan Kenobi’s part.” He turned his penetrating gaze to Obi-Wan. “Aware of this, I believe you have been.”

Vertigo swept through him at that statement. So many mysteries became clear in that instant. He bowed his head, knowing that some of the throbbing heartache must be showing on his face. A Jedi should not fixate on his own losses, but rejoice for the gains of others. Through his repudiation Anakin now had a chance to become the Knight Obi-Wan could never be, and through this inadvertent revelation Qui-Gon - his wise, powerful but ultimately lonely Master - would know beyond doubt that he was loved, even if he did not love his sundered apprentice in return. He must focus on the positives.

If only his soul did not hurt so.

Obi-Wan firmly reminded himself that his did not lose _everything_. Even deprived of his Master, his status and his bond, he remained a Jedi. That meant he must accept the status quo, relinquish his emotions, and move on. He had survived debilitating injuries and illnesses, tortures and rapes. He would survive this, too. Obi-Wan blinked, finding thirteen expectant faces staring back. His migraine was worsening by the seconds. “I couldn’t be sure, Masters, though I have some suspicions when I sensed the bond deepening.”

He almost flinched when Qui-Gon turned the incredulous look to him; the implications of a Life-bond was not lost on him, then. “Padawan…” Qui-Gon began, then amended himself. “Obi-Wan…” Heart in his throat, Obi-Wan watched as his Master visibly struggled for words. Eventually though Qui-Gon seemed to give up on the battle, for he settled on most basic - “I’m so sorry.” Even though Obi-Wan anticipated the rejection, he still reeled from these three simple words. His Master’s blue eyes bore into his, silently begging forgiveness for yet another unintended injury. 

In the face of such blatant misery, Obi-Wan found himself compelled to offer comfort. “It’s all right, Master. I always knew you do not feel the same way. This was my choice. You couldn’t have known to avoid this.”

“Padawan Kenobi, this Council would like to conduct a formal interview with you,” said Master Windu in a tone usually reserved for visiting someone’s deathbed. Obi-Wan bowed his acquiescence. Master Windu then threw a sharp glance toward Qui-Gon. “Master Jinn, observe and do not interrupt. You are censured for the unauthorised breaking of a training bond. There will be a disciplinary hearing for your actions later.”

Once Master Windu was sure his request met no protests, he turned his penetrating stare at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan waited patiently, emboldened by the thought that nothing the Council chose to visit upon him could make his day any worse. Finally, Master Windu spoke. “You are fortunate to be able to execute the Pursong-Crax shield. It was the only thing that kept you from psychic overload. How much do you know about the severance of Life-bonds, Padawan?”

“A Life-bond intertwines the life forces of two individuals, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan recalled from his reading, privately marvelling at how academic he managed to sound. “When it is severed, the individual essentially lost a portion of his life force. The symptoms include physical coldness, reduced stamina and chronic physic pain. With mind healer’s assistance, I should be able to build more permanent shields around the severed bond, enough to leave me functional for field operations.” Beside him, Qui-Gon shifted slightly but held his peace.

“Correct, Padawan. Exhaustion or stress would weaken the shields. When that happens, you will again experience the full extent of the shock. In addition, the bond will compel you toward its completion. You need to be on guard lest the compulsion manifest into action,” said Master Mundi. Obi-Wan quietly adsorbed this new information. Indeed, had he been more alert he would have noticed an unnatural need to touch Qui-Gon earlier. 

Master Mundi continued, relentless. “You should know that a unilateral Life-bond is extremely rare, Padawan Kenobi, for two reasons. First it requires a level of devotion that most cannot attain without reciprocation. The second is that Jedi knights, once freed of the padawan’s restriction on romantic entanglement, receive instructions to suppress the formation of bonds when it becomes clear that their love are not returned. You seemed to have researched the matter thoroughly. What explanation do you have for your attachment and for this bond’s existence?”

The insinuation in the question was clear enough, but Obi-Wan hesitated in how much he should reveal. He knew that the admission would compound Qui-Gon’s guilt. One glance at Master Yoda though halted that train of thought. He was no victim of his own emotions, nor would he be ashamed of them. Resolutely keeping his eyes on Master Mundi, he prayed that the truth would set them all free. 

“The Code does not forbid love, and indeed encourages it when it comes with no expectation, no demand for reciprocation. The Code also counsels harmony between the self, others and the Force. In my case, it is love that unites all three. To oppose my deepest feeling would mean denying self-knowledge, a divorce from communion with the Force. Although I did not anticipate the formation of the bond, I did make the conscious choice to love. I understand the pitfalls inherent in emotional attachments, and regularly sought to avoid them through my meditations. My actions during the mission to the Dalchon sector should illustrate that I would not let my attachment interfere with duty.” With each sentence, Obi-Wan became surer of himself. The Force sang in his veins, celebrating the verbal acknowledgement of the one truth in Obi-Wan’s life. This love belonged to him. Nothing could take it away.

Discerning no sign of censure, Obi-Wan ploughed on. “As to the bond’s development - I was aware of its transformation, if not its precise nature. There are many strategic advantages to an expanded bond, including greater rapport and reduced risk of miscommunication, but I confess I allowed it to go on mostly for my Master’s benefit. My Master…has been lonely. If I have eased some of his melancholy by not withholding my affection, then my current predicament is worth it.”


	3. Qui-Gon Jinn, one cycle ago, Jedi High Council Chamber, Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, a cherubim  
> Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile  
> Infusèd with a fortitude from heaven,  
> When I have decked the sea with drops full salt

So much love, so much devotion, all wasted on a Jedi Master who remained oblivious to the treasure in his lap, who in haste and ignorance condemned him to a lifetime of psychological damage, who casted aside a worthy apprentice for the sake of whom Obi-Wan must perceived as a usurper. He had only meant to secure Anakin’s position within the Jedi. He never dreamt that the bond would snap in his zeal, nor that the absence of mind healers would carry such far-reaching consequences. Obi-Wan’s soft-worded admission rocked Qui-Gon to his core. He had a horrible suspicion that … that Obi-Wan’s love was a direct response of some failing of his. 

He almost flinched when Eeth Koth spoke next. “You are referring to Master Jinn’s depression.”

“Yes, Master,” was the quiet reply.

Against his will, he remembered.

Those were two dark years in Qui-Gon’s life, worse than the period after Xanatos’ turning. Even now Qui-Gon could not think of that time without recalling the horrible despair that tainted his perception then. Tahl’s violent death was followed swiftly by the demises of several of Qui-Gon’s close friends, some of them killed in action, others by accident. By the time he lit Brektawa’s pyre, accompanied by his ever supportive apprentice, he was entirely consumed by the cycle of rage, grief and apathy. He could not concentrate, meditate, rest or even respond properly to an increasingly concerned padawan.

It was Obi-Wan who finally reported him to the mind healers, and who for his trouble bore the brunt of Qui-Gon’s fury. To his shame, the argument involved many barbed words and nearly a drawn lightsaber. Yet Obi-Wan never wavered from his side. It was he who sat with Qui-Gon when the mind healer pronounced her diagnosis (“Master Jinn, your strength in the Living Force means that you need emotional connections more than other Jedi _”)_ in a dry voice that implied some contempt toward his apparent needfulness. It was also he who entreated Qui-Gon to attend all the therapy sessions during the several tens they were removed from the mission roster, and who glowered at those the healers that more or less suggested Qui-Gon to “meditate and get over it all ready”.

He had known that Obi-Wan independently consulted his mind healer several times to determine the best ways to help him. The healers had given the standard recommendation toward the family member of a depressed patient: show unswerving support toward the patient, let him know you are here and willing to listen. 

Only now, sufficiently distanced from his churning emotions then, did Qui-Gon recognise the drastic changes Obi-Wan underwent during his depression. Though Obi-Wan had been an obedient and caring apprentice even before then, he was reserved and undemonstrative as most male adolescents wont to be. Then, as his depression took a turn for the worse, Obi-Wan started to gently but firmly insinuating himself into Qui-Gon’s life. He took to cooking a breakfast for two in Qui-Gon’s suite, instead of eating with his friends in the dining hall. Afterward, he insisted on sharing meditation and exercise before leaving for his lessons. In the evening he would complete his assignments and readings in Qui-Gon’s living room in lieu of doing so in his own room in the padawan’s dormitory. They spent many an evening discussing the finer points of xenobotany and interplanetary politics, or simply enjoying each other’s company.

Obi-Wan also became more outwardly loving. When interacting with other Jedi and people they met during missions, he maintained the quintessential Jedi demeanour: polite, restrained and distant. Only when in his presence would Obi-Wan allowed his more tactile side to surface, freely bestowing easy, casual touches that nevertheless warmed Qui-Gon with the offer of companionship they represented. He was also more mischievous in private. Qui-Gon had savoured those moments when his padawan was at his most irreverent and sarcastic, his wry humour a match to his own. 

Now, three years after he had shaken off the last vestige of despondency, Qui-Gon could finally admit to himself that he had needed Obi-Wan’s love, even as a part of him balked at the idea of depending on another. Most Jedi masters were solitary souls behind their veils of authority, succoured by nothing but the Force. Although he had many friends and acquaintances, their meetings were few and far between due to their individual obligations, and the sense of connectedness those meetings afforded was never enough. Only Obi-Wan had been in the position to offer care, and he did. He became Qui-Gon’s anchor, a balm to his soul in a cruel and often senseless universe. More so than any mind healers, it was Obi-Wan who nursed Qui-Gon out of his depression. But Obi-Wan did so at such enormous cost to himself…

“…are Master Jinn’s reasons for your repudiation, Padawan?” The mention of his name forcibly interrupted Qui-Gon’s reverie. He fought the overwhelming urge to tell Depa Billaba that he did not mean to renounce his apprentice, that this entire debacle was one huge mistake. Sadly, with his current standing in the eyes of the Council any further argument would no doubt be misconstrued. Moreover, after publicly admitting to his attachment Obi-Wan needed to prove his independence and strength, both to himself and to the Council. The young man had from time to time suffered from a sense of inferiority, the lingering effect of the unhappy start of his apprenticeship. Qui-Gon waited anxiously for Obi-Wan’s answer, fearful that he had irrevocably shattered the young man’s confidence.

Obi-Wan was quiet for several moments, his aura betraying none of his emotions. “I believe it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, Master Billaba. Master Jinn did not discuss any of these with me beforehand, which he would have done had he foreseen the development. He repudiated me not because of any lacking on my part but because he recognised the necessity of training Anakin Skywalker.”

Qui-Gon silently released the breath he was holding, thanking the Force for Obi-Wan’s perceptiveness. Even Mace Windu looked faintly approving when he spoke next. “And do you believe in the necessity of training Anakin Skywalker?”

“I have sensed grave danger in Anakin’s future. He possesses great powers, most of which he does not understand. It may be that giving him control over these powers increases the danger he poses. However, it may be that he becomes a rogue Force-adept or a Dark-sider, the possibility of which must be considered with the potential reemergence of the Sith, due to lack of Jedi training…” 

Qui-Gon listened with amazement as Obi-Wan went on to assert the need to emancipate Shmi and convinced the Council that their mysterious opponent on Tatooine was, quite possibly, a Sith. He parried each Council member’s questions with ease, blazing his way through their skepticism, rhetorics and inertia. He even managed to turn his plight to his advantage, using the Council’s sympathy to further drive his arguments home. Yet he had no ulterior motive except his dedication to truth; with his privacy shields completely dismantled, his words shone with sincerity and conviction. 

“…Anakin’s concern for Lady Skywalker reflects his compassion and attachment in equal measure, and his worries are justified. The conditions of slavery on Hutt controlled planet …”

With an unexpected flair of prescience, Qui-Gon Saw with sudden clarity what Obi-Wan was, and what he would remain until the end of his days. The man standing besides him was the Master Negotiator. Even in his weakened and unbalanced state the serenity of his presence commanded attention and respect. The Force guided his words, weaving every contention together into a web of invulnerable logics only to have them delivered with all the humility of a Jedi and the tact of a consummate diplomat.

His apprentice had come into his own. Qui-Gon rejoiced even while he mourned the circumstances necessary to remove the last barrier that had been blocking Obi-Wan’s progress.

The coalescence of all of Obi-Wan’s training and potential was not missed by the Council, either. Qui-Gon understood their intention when Even Piell, resident military strategy expert, inquired in a mildly challenging tone. “A vote of no confidence has been cast against Valorum. The Senate is voting for a new Supreme Chancellor as we speak and Queen Amidala is returning home tomorrow morning. What are your recommendations for the Order’s subsequent involvement, Padawan Kenobi?” 

“Anakin Skywalker should remain here until his status is decided. Master Jinn and I should be Queen Amidala’s escorts, since we possess firsthand knowledge of the situations in Naboo and have established working relationship with the Queen’s retinue. Having been sighted by the Zabrak fighter already, our presence would not arouse undue suspicion. We also need at least one competent Temple pilot and another team of warriors. We barely escaped the Trade Federation blockade last time, and now we are expected. The other team of warriors should operate covertly to maximise the advantage of stealth, cloaking their presence to ambush the Zabrak. If our opponent is indeed a Sith, Master Jinn and I alone cannot hope to engage him while protecting the Queen through the armed conflict.”

“Is that all?”

“No, Master Piell. There’s one thing else. I have no evidence for my conjecture except for a series of remarkable coincidences all in one senator’s favour.” This time there was a slight hesitation. Qui-Gon tensed, recognising the sign of Obi-Wan gearing up to speak something he deemed necessary but distasteful. “Now the crisis in Naboo had precipitated the vote of no confidence, Senator Palpatine is in prime position to run for the election. He has public sympathy for his home world’s plight, and enough political backing for the rest. I believe he will become the supreme chancellor before the evening is out. While Jedi must remain politically neutral, Sith matter falls under Jedi jurisdiction. The blockade of Naboo and assassination attempt on Queen Amidala seem too fortuitous for Senator Palpatine’s fortune. I respectfully recommend a discreet investigation on Senator Palpatine’s connection with Trade Federation and its associated organisations.”

The Council again descended into tense silence. Obi-Wan stood back, fairly radiating fatigue. Noticing the shivers that coursed through his frame, Qui-Gon removed his own robe and draped it over Obi-Wan’s shoulders. He was rewarded with a tired, grateful smile.

“Agree with your recommendations the Council does,” announced Master Yoda, instantly gaining both of their attentions. The Grand Master beamed in a rare gesture of open approval. “Shown great maturity and sense you have in time of personal and professional adversity. Excellent grasp of the Code and the Force you have. Strong in the Light you are. Passed your Trials you have. Confer on you the title of the Knight, the Council does.”

Intense relief washed through Qui-Gon, leaving him almost light-headed in its aftermath. Obi-Wan froze for a moment, and then regained his manners. They bowed as one to the Council. “Thank you, Masters.”

“Sorry I am that mission leaves no time for visit to mind healers. To complete the ruse for the Naboo mission, continue acting as master and padawan team you must,” Master Yoda said, gesturing at Obi-Wan’s braid with a hint of apology. “Your Knighting ceremony the Council will perform after the mission concludes. Until then, may the Force be with you.”


	4. Mace Windu, one cycle ago, Jedi High Council Chamber, Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the pricking of my thumbs,  
> Something wicked this way comes.

Mace counted Qui-Gon Jinn among his friends, but there were days when he’d gladly borrow Yoda’s gimer stick and crack it into two over Jinn’s thick skull. This day was of one of them.

He watched as Jinn and Kenobi shared an elated smile, their affinity with each other glaringly obvious in spite of Jinn’s transgressions.

Mace supposed he should be moved by the unguarded adoration that brightened Kenobi’s otherwise pinched countenance, but really all he wanted to do was to challenge Jinn to a duel, preferably with their lightsabers on the highest setting. But no, that sort of behaviour would be unbefitting of a Councillor, not to mention against the Code, so he chose to look forward to Jinn’s disciplinary hearing instead.

All right, he should acknowledge to himself that a large part of his irritability stemmed from the tingling sensation between his shoulder blades. Since Mace was an initiate he had been blessed with — though personally he preferred ‘cursed with’ — the ability to perceive Shatterpoints, pivotal points within the Force at which potential pathways of a cosmic scale diverge. He had honed his abilities under Yoda’s tutelage until he could control his perception of Shatterpoints instead of the other way around, and now, as he watched Kenobi interact with his Master, he knew another Shatterpoint had emerged. It enveloped Kenobi’s signature, waiting to be crossed. For better or for worse, whatever Kenobi does in the next few hours to days would alter the fate of the Republic.

Shatterpoints could be found in an object, a person, a location or sometimes even an event. Forty minutes ago when he had first felt the chill of the Shatterpoint settled on his back, he had thought it must be centered in the Skywalker boy — a young former slave with astronomical midichlorian count, or the Chosen One as Qui-Gon Jinn proclaimed. Although Mace was one of the first to deny Jinn’s request to train the boy, he would be a fool not to acknowledge that the maverick Master’s intuition was usually quite accurate. Together with Yoda’s statement about the boy’s future, Mace thought it only logical that Skywalker carried the Shatterpoint.

Then he had felt the connection between the master and the apprentice snap, and Jinn’s padawan had gone down howling. Mace had almost forgotten to breathe as all his premonitory senses had clamoured for his attention, telling him that the Shatterpoint was in Obi-Wan Kenobi; and all his common sense had screamed at him as well, telling him that Jinn might just have broken the young man beyond repair. The Shatterpoint had not been immediately resolved as most were wont to, though. Even as the padawan had staggered to his feet, ploughed through the Council’s inquisition, changed Mace’s mind about Skywalker’s recruitment and gained the status of knighthood, the nauseating feeling of the Shatterpoint lingered.

Fear was not an emotion Mace had to contend with often. Fear had no place in guiding the Jedi, so Mace ensured that when he experienced it the emotion was swiftly recognised and banished. Now, with the sense of an impending Shatterpoint crawling over his skin, he found himself unable to release his dread. The Supreme Chancellor had been unseated. Previously docile trading organisation had suddenly grown bold. Sith, the ancient race of death and destruction, emerged again from the murky past, riding on the wing of a prophecy etched in the Jedi’s collective memory. Mace attempted to tell himself that much of these remained hypothetical, but the Force whispered otherwise in his ears. Change was upon them.

“…objective is to bring the Force user into custody if possible, neutralise him if you cannot….”

Adi was briefing Jinn and Kenobi now. It had been decided that Master Rhara and Padawan Muln, whose combined knowledge of ship models rivalled that of the master tech, would have piloting duties for this mission. Mace and Adi would shadow Jinn and Kenobi, armed with the best Force suppressor the Temple had to offer. Should a confrontation occur, Adi would take over the Queen’s protection, freeing the other three to engage the Zabrak. Three partnered teams seemed an overreaction to unconfirmed threat, but Mace had a feeling that they just might need it. 

That returned Mace to his more immediate worries. Whatever else might be said of them, Jinn and Kenobi used to be a dependable team. They shared one of the strongest master-padawan bonds. The trust between them should have been absolute, or so the Council assumed. Jinn’s repudiation of Kenobi shattered that particular belief, and then it turned out depriving Kenobi of mind healer’s consultancy beforehand costed more dearly than any of them could have predicted. With the severance of the bond, Jinn had single-handedly crippled a competent, promising Jedi. 

_Do you realise what you have done, Qui-Gon? Do you know how ironic it is that you have spent twelve long years building this man up only to take him down yourself?_

Kenobi had always been special. His dedication to the Light never wavered. He was reliable, rational, detail-oriented and grounded in the Unifying Force. He had a drive for perfection that Mace could relate to. Mace had looked forward to Kenobi’s Knighting, whereupon he could finally get to know the young man on a personal level. Truthfully Kenobi could have taken his Trials a year or two ago and passed, but his Master never applied for it. Mace had thought that Jinn was reluctant to release Kenobi from his care, yet in light of recent event that belief was probably wrong as well. 

Nevertheless, Kenobi would have been an invaluable asset to the Jedi.

At this moment Kenobi himself was not merely psychologically unstable, his usual concentration and stamina were impaired by the severed bond. Mace didn’t even dare think about the state of Kenobi’s self confidence. While Mace knew that with Kenobi’s resilience he would eventually find ways to compensate for the handicap, it remained a fact that he would never reach his fullest potential. His master saw to that. Where was that gimer stick when Mace really needed it?

As his line of thought became increasingly negative, Mace had to admit to himself that he was envious of Jinn. Who wouldn’t be? Devotion such as this was rare indeed, especially in ones so young. One of the reasons padawan-level lessons on bonding did not warn them of one-sided Life-bond was that most were incapable of giving so much of themselves without thought of reciprocation. Only Kenobi’s selfless nature enabled him to overcome the natural psychological safeguards against forming such lopsided bond. 

Yet such love made Kenobi vulnerable. Attachments were against the Code for a reason, and whatever Kenobi said during the interview, he was attached to Jinn. In his attachment and self-denigration, he allowed Jinn to trample all over him. Kenobi made a sorry sight today in the Council chamber, _thanking_ his master for his instruction and all but acquiescing to Jinn’s wild notion of taking a replacement apprentice. Mace would have reprimanded Kenobi for making such self-debasing gesture had it not been so utterly Jedi. Perhaps it would be kindest to separate them after this mission. Kenobi needed to develop some autonomy as badly as he needed a good probe by the mind healers.

Privately, Mace wondered whether they would be able to sustain a relationship had Jinn actually returned Kenobi’s feelings. Relationship meant giving and receiving. Yet Kenobi’s devotion was _agape_ , the most transcendental form of love that all Jedi were taught to emulate; it gave everything and asked for nothing in return. It must be difficult to build a relationship with someone so entirely selfless. Lovers responded best to demands and expectations, and Kenobi seemed to have neither. Such speculation was futile, anyhow.

The prickling increased, setting his teeth on edge.

_Do you understand the golden heart within your grasp, Qui-Gon? This knight has loved you, is still in love with you. He continues working with you after the being subjected to the worst mortification any padawan could face by you. How could you look him in the face and not feel humbled and ashamed?_

It was as if Mace’s internal monologue somehow reached Jinn’s subconscious. Or perhaps Jinn was going through a similar soliloquy in his mind. The two bowed again after Adi had finished briefing. Kenobi straightened up, patiently waiting for Jinn to precede him to the door. That air of calm patience that so characterised Kenobi’s padawan days finally seemed to break through Jinn’s composure. Mace watched, careful not to betray more reaction than a raised eyebrow, as the Order’s infamous maverick lowered himself to his knees, bowing his head in the learner’s posture for repentance and supplication. A look of pure astonishment crossed Kenobi’s features, but he made no move to forestall the ritual words that fell from Jinn’s lips.

“Knight Kenobi, it has come to my attention that I have wronged you and injured you by repudiating your status as my Padawan. I acted with a thoughtlessness unbecoming of a Jedi. Please accept my apology and understand I meant no slight to you as a person or student, for you have always been a more than worthy apprentice. I beseech your forgiveness.”

To his credit, Kenobi did not react with haste to the Jedi Master kneeling at his feet. Observing his aura closely, Mace understood that Kenobi was listening to the Force’s suggestion. Finally, he reached down and tugged Jinn to his feet. “Master Jinn, I accept your apology. Let there be peace and friendship between us, for I have absolved you of your wrongdoing. Let us begin anew.” The ancient words of goodwill resonated within the chamber and were sealed with a light kiss by Kenobi on Jinn’s each cheek.

They shared a lingering look. Mace would have thought they were communicating if not for the fact that the severance of their training bond started this entire mess. Then Jinn enfolded Kenobi in his arms, and dropped a light kiss on his head. Tension drained out of Kenobi’s frame as the broken bond was appeased by the nearness of its intended mate. Mace thought he heard Jinn murmur “I need to think about all of these,” but he couldn’t be sure. 

Only then did he realise that the tingling stopped. Jinn and Kenobi remained a team. Mace sighed. It was time to recall Skywalker and see whether the kid still wanted a place in the Jedi creche after the ridiculous displays he witnessed today.


	5. Qui-Gon Jinn, present, Naboo cruiser, bound for Naboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven  
> Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;  
> It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:  
> ‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest

_Jedi Masters do not dawdle in front of closed doors._ Qui-Gon firmly told himself before he finally gathered the courage to knock on Obi-Wan’s cabin. It had been almost a day after the fiasco in the Council chamber, and the intervening time was spent entirely on mission preparation and, in Qui-Gon’s case, meditations. After five consecutive hours on his knees, Qui-Gon finally came to term with the his failure to recognise his padawan’s feelings earlier, though he could not even begin to work through the guilt he felt toward injuring the person closest to his heart. Thrice. He had then searched his own heart with care, examined every conscious and subconscious thought and emotion. He did not need the Force’s confirmation to know what he needed to do. Hopefully, hopefully, this discussion with Obi-Wan could allow him to start addressing the consequences of his mistakes.

“Come in. The door is not locked.”

Qui-Gon palmed the door open. The lamp was off in the small cabin, so the only illumination came from the undimmed viewport. Obi-Wan sat crosslegged in the centre of the floor, his solemn, austere feature limned by faint starlight. Qui-Gon could see very little in the semi-darkness, but at the sight of this man bathed in the cold radiance of the galaxy he became intensely aware of two things: the sense of quiet grief that suffused Obi-Wan’s silhouette, and the stark beauty of his profile. The ethereal glow transformed Qui-Gon’s former apprentice into a marble statue the like of which were found only in the crystal palace of Reena Minor, where they depicted tragic drama of the planet's native mythology.

Qui-Gon’s heart lurched. He had never seen a thing so sad, or so breathtakingly lovely.

Cautiously, as if afraid to disturb a place of mourning, Qui-Gon crossed over the threshold and sat in front of Obi-Wan. The time for prevarication had passed.

“I hurt you, several times, during the Council session yesterday.” 

Obi-Wan did not contradict his statement. “You were afraid about the Sith,” he replied lightly. “The Council refused to consider that a dire enough situation would arise that, perhaps, requires the Chosen One. I’m less knowledgeable about the prophecy, so I don’t have an opinion on that one way or the other. Nevertheless, you panicked. In your fear you said the first thing that came to mind. It wasn’t a very impressive argument you made yesterday, Master.”

Qui-Gon lowered his head, acknowledging the truth in those words. “I was afraid,” he agreed, “and in my fear I accidentally injured someone very dear to me. Any apologies I make would be inadequate, but what I cannot apologise for I will try to rectify. Obi-Wan, there is no one closer to me heart than you. I love you as student, friend, companion and shield brother. Yet is not the same as what you bear for me. Yesterday you told the Council that love is a choice. So this is my choice. I want to learn to love you as you love me. I want to be shown your love and be able to do the same in return. Will you teach me, Obi-Wan? Will you let me?” 

His nerves deserted him as the enormity of his proposal caught up with him. Qui-Gon consciously unclenched his hand and loosened his shoulders. Although he had carefully weighted every obstacle during his meditations already, learning to love a person whom he had never previously considered as an object of desire with the explicit goal of building a Life-bond was a huge undertaking.

As a Jedi Master, Qui-Gon understood the malleability of emotions and beliefs. Human mind was an amazing thing. With conscious effort, respect and care could be transformed into love. The question was whether he, Qui-Gon Jinn, was capable of loving so unreservedly. He had fallen in love before, several times, but only with Tahl had he contemplated attempting a Life-bond, and her death meant that he never found out whether he could sustain such a bond or not. 

A choked sound escaped Obi-Wan’s lip. Qui-Gon looked up just in time to see a drop of silver tear trailed down that beautiful face. His own eyes moistened in response. He had seen his apprentice in tears of pain or (when Obi-Wan was very young) frustration, but never before did he see him weep. “Qui-Gon. Master. Are you sure you are not doing this out of fear for my state of mind? I love you. I would not have you do this out of any sense of obligation. I won’t deny that it hurts, but this is nothing I cannot survive.”

He wished he could see Obi-Wan’s expression more clearly. Qui-Gon gently captured his former apprentice’s hands in his own. Obi-Wan’s fingers were icy, and shaking with the rest of his body. “I have spent hours of meditation on this, and I know my heart. I would forever wonder what could be between us if I do not at least try. I need to do this, Obi-Wan. Your happiness is too important to me.” Glittering eyes returned his regard. “But you have the final say in this. As much as I’d like to, I cannot guarantee that my heart will follow my mind. So please consider carefully. I would not hurt you a second time if it turns out I am unable to share my love fully with you.”

Obi-Wan’s trembling grew as the silence stretched. Qui-Gon rubbed those hands slowly to increase their circulation, trying not to think whether this would be the last time he held Obi-Wan’s hands. “I have one condition: promise you would not Life-bond with me unless you truly wish to be with me for all eternity.” Obi-Wan’s voice was calm and measured in direct contrast to his body language. “This will be difficult for us both. You have seen what the severed bond can do to me, what it continues doing to me. And I know you, Master. You have a compassionate soul, and you want to allay my suffering. This severed bond would drain my control, make me crave for your closeness. I might beg you to complete the bond, and you will need to resist my entreaties, because shackling you to me when your heart lays elsewhere would pain me more than this amputated connection could ever inflict. Do I have your word?”

Qui-Gon allowed the severity of what Obi-Wan was asking of him sink into his mind, for it was important to Obi-Wan that he gave it due consideration. It was nothing he didn’t agonise over in his meditation, but hearing it being spoken in such plain terms brought fresh pain to his heart. After thirteen years as this man’s master, the urge to soothe and protect was instinctual. They would be fighting an uphill battle the entire time they were together: Obi-Wan against the bond’s psychological compulsion, Qui-Gon his desire to heal Obi-Wan, consequences be damned. 

“You have my words that I shall do all in my power to honour your wishes. I will not form a Life-bond with you until I think I want to remain with you for always.” Sensing Obi-Wan’s dissatisfaction at the blatant loophole in his vow, he explained “It is difficult to tell my own mind. My concerns for you, my compassion for your straits are all coloured by my love. The most I can promise you is that I shall endeavour to discern the my motives.”

Obi-Wan nodded in acquiescence and opened his mouth to reply, but Qui-Gon shushed him by laying a finger on his mouth. The small part of his brain that wasn’t gearing up for the conversation ahead noted the dry softness of those lips. “I have a request of my own as well. While I cannot alleviate your greatest pain, I would like to assist in whatever small way I can. You have gifted me with your love and care when I was that depressed, unresponsive mess. Let me return the favour, please.”

“You can touch me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Amusement filled Obi-Wan’s voice. “Physical proximity eases the strain on my shields. The effect is only temporary, and of course you can’t do it all the time, but…” Understanding dawned. Without further ado he learned forward and gathered Obi-Wan into his arms. After so long on the cold metal decking Obi-Wan’s body was shockingly warm and solid against his own. They ended up sprawling on the floor, Obi-Wan half sitting in his lap. With a soft exhalation Obi-Wan relaxed against him, laying his head against his shoulder.

“You are still afraid.”

Obi-Wan was ever observant, or perhaps he just knew Qui-Gon too well. “Yes, I’m still afraid,” he said wryly. If Yoda was to be trusted the amount of fear and guilt he carried should have sent him over to the Dark side already. “I fear for you, Obi-Wan. I have injured you gravely yesterday, and knowing my own shortcomings, I cannot guarantee that it will not happen again. I will never mean it, that I know for sure. But I have been impulsive and single-minded, intolerant of contrary opinions. You have paid the price for those traits yesterday, and I fear you might continue to pay the price if we become closer still.”

“No relationship is without difficulties” was the gentle reply, slightly muffled by Obi-Wan’s position. A hand combed through his long hair. “We shall live in the Moment together. The rest will come in time.”

And who was Qui-Gon to argue against such wisdom?

They both had many responsibilities during the ship’s day cycle, including lengthy advice session with the Queen and ‘saber tactic coordination with Mace and Adi. Yet neither of them could tear themselves away from the comfort of the embrace. Together, they sat in meditative darkness, soothed by the sound of each other’s breathing. Conversation ebbed and flowed between them. A wondrous contentment stole over Qui-Gon’s heart.

They could not ignore the need for sleep, however. Even though Obi-Wan had not done anything too strenuous all day, exhaustion was quickly overtaking him. Qui-Gon gently extracted himself from the tangle of limbs, and then turned to help Obi-Wan to his feet. 

Only then did Qui-Gon realise he didn’t know whether he should return to his assigned cabin. He had been so preoccupied with actually establishing a relationship with Obi-Wan that he did not consider the nature of this relationship. A Life-bond required no sexual desire to form, though many bonded couples did enjoy physical intimacy. Then again, in all his years of acquaintance with Obi-Wan he did not once see the man express any desire or attraction for another being. Perhaps Obi-Wan had merely been discreet, but it would not surprise Qui-Gon at all if it turned out that he belonged to the group of platonic Jedi who simply had no interest in sex.

“Obi-Wan, do you want to have sex with me?” Qui-Gon inwardly winced at how crudely that question came out, but at least it leaved no room for misunderstanding. This entire situation with Obi-Wan had thrown him off centre. He foresaw another round of intensive meditation in the near future. 

The answer took longer than he expected to come. “I don’t know.” Qui-Gon must have made a noise of confusion, for Obi-Wan clarified. “Master Zen’ya’s third paradox of desire states ‘ _Desire for what one does not have is naught but a desire for change._ ’ I want what I never have had, and that rather invalidates my want, doesn’t it?” 

Qui-Gon knew that if he followed the argument they would end up debating all night, as per their habit when a conversation turned philosophical. “You could easily extrapolate from sexual experiences in general.”

Obi-Wan’s voice gained a neutral infliction when he spoke again, instantly alerting him to some unpleasantness to come. “There is no other experience. The incident on Alkenak does not count.”

Qui-Gon stilled. His padawan had acquitted himself admirably on Alkenak, but Qui-Gon himself could never forget his desperate effort to Force-heal Obi-Wan’s rectal haemorrhage. The seventeen-year-old’s face, blackened by bruises and whitened by blood loss, flashed into his mind. The thought that the incident constituted the entirety of Obi-Wan’s sexual experience did not bear thinking about. Yet Obi-Wan was still waiting for his response, composed and expectant, so he released his horror and regret into the Force. He refused to let the past tinge the present. “Then would you like to explore this as well?”

“Like everything else?” came the wry reply. “All right.”

Then Obi-Wan’s slender hand slipped into his, and he was led toward the bed.


	6. Mace Windu, present, Naboo cruiser, bound for Naboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turning and turning in the widening gyre  
> The falcon cannot hear the falconer;  
> Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;  
> Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

The conference room reeked of barely restrained chaos. 

Mace surveyed the assembled people discreetly as he made his way toward his seat. On the surface, most of the room’s occupants appeared calm and collected, displaying nothing but grave determination, yet their fear and anxiety rose like hot steam in the Living Force, obscuring Mace’s perception of subtler emotions. The Queen, garbed in royal fineries designed to conceal her age and project authority, was sitting rigidly at one end of the long table. She was flanked by the handmaidens, the security officer and, curiously, the rambunctious Gungan. A moment of scrutiny confirmed that it was indeed Padme Naberrie under the heavy face paints of the Queen instead of her body double, and that immediately triggered the alarm bell in Mace’s mind. 

_What contentious plan has Amidala come up with that she feels the need to announce it personally? If she believes her proposal would meet no opposition from the Jedi, she could very well let one of her handmaidens make the statement._

While the Queen appeared to have the best interest of her people at heart, she was young and untried, naive in the way that anyone who had not braved a war zone was. Mace had met leaders such as this before, well-meaning people who nonetheless caused more harm than good due to their very belief in their own good intent. He silently prayed that Amidala would not commit something excessively imprudent that she’d endanger herself and her protectors. The mission had high enough risks as it was. 

In his mind, Mace was still busy analysing the practice ‘saber match he had fought with Kenobi two hours ago — Kenobi’s attacks had been alarmingly inaccurate, his defence feeble, his footwork uncoordinated; the aerial manoeuvres that so characterised his offensive were entirely absent. Mace had intended to use the bout to attune himself to Kenobi’s fighting style, so that he could synchronise his movements with the Knight’s when the need for combat arose. Unfortunately, he had defeated Kenobi so swiftly and soundly he had gained no further insight on the young man except that, with his current mental and physical conditions, he stood no chance against a Sith. Ideally, Kenobi should have been given the time and medical supports he needed to recover his equilibrium. However, his plan of feigning unaltered mission objectives presented the Order with its only chance of luring out the enigmatic Zabrak attacker. As usual, the need of many overrode the need of one.

_It is strange,_ Mace mused, _that I still trust Kenobi to carry out this mission in spite of his faltering strength. Perhaps it is because I understand the man’s principled character. Kenobi would complete the objectives to the best of his considerable abilities, at the cost of his own safety if necessary._

Anyhow, it was no use worrying about things he could not help. With an inward sigh, Mace returned his focus to the present. He had a feeling that handling the current meeting would require his complete attention. 

Giving a brief bow to her Majesty, Mace seated himself at the other end of the table, lacing his fingers together. The conference room was not made to accommodate so many people, so the other Jedi had to stand on either side of him. Gratified to sense the calm attentiveness in the other Jedi, Mace nodded toward Amidala, signalling for her to commence the forum. 

“Honourable Jedi, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your attendance. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the course of action I intend to take upon planetfall. After taking into account of all your advices from the last two days, I have decided upon a strategy that would remove Trade Federation presence from Naboo most expeditiously.” The Queen’s speech was accompanied by flourishing gestures. The intricate embroideries on her gown shimmers and seemed to change colour with each hand motion. “There are two ways to expel the Trade Federation forces from Naboo: to seize their leader, or to destroy their firepower. Either the Viceroy, Nute Gunray, must be captured and held hostage, or the droid command ship must be incapacitated. To increase the overall chance of victory, both plans will be implemented.”

On either side of him, Adi and Jinn straightened their backs almost imperceptibly. Mace kept his expression carefully neutral, but he felt a flicker of surprise at Amidala’s blithe mention of ‘hostage’ and ‘incapacitation’.

“In order to accomplish either, I must gain access to the Theed Palace,” said the Queen. She then proceeded to explain the necessity of such a move, citing the need for pilots and armed spacecrafts to launch an assault on the droid command ship. Given the military advantages of the palace’s geographical location, Amidala postulated, the viceroy would most likely use it as his command centre as well. 

As she expounded on her plan, the holoprojector in the middle of the table lit up to show the three-dimensional map of the grounds surrounding the palace. The Queen pointed out a partially underground route through which the party could gain access to the palace hanger. The route circumvented the most populated areas of Theed, but it was not altogether free of exposure. A horrible suspicion occurred to Mace, and, a moment later, was confirmed by Amidala: “Theed is assuredly under heavy patrol and surveillance. To facilitate a successful infiltration, a sufficient diversion must be created to draw the firepower away from the capital.” 

She delicately cleared her throat, seemingly oblivious to the six Jedi’s mounting apprehension. The bright overhead light shone upon the ruby choker resting against her neck, turning the gemstones a bloody red.“Since the Naboo has no standing army to provide for such a distraction, I would plead for the assistance of the Gungans. Jar Jar Binks has assured me that the Gunguns’ standing army is capable of taking on the Federation’s forces.” Having finished her piece, the Queen fell silent as she awaited the Jedi’s response.

At the mention of his name, Binks perked up and tried to jostle his way to the front of the table. In his excitement, he promptly tripped over the long chain of the Queen’s gown and crushed, with an astonished cry, onto the ground. 

Mace was too shocked by the Queen’s statement to concern himself with the disturbances happening across the table. Was this young woman, whom he had previously regarded as foolhardy but kindhearted, seriously proposing to put unprepared Gungans to battle? This move defied all precepts of asymmetrical warfare. Well armed and well trained though the Gungan soldiers might be, they are no match against an army of droids. Droids would not be intimidated by their enemies, nor would they desert their posts for fear of death. They would not be weakened by sympathy toward their foes, or by injuries which they could not feel. If the Queen’s plan was carried out, the Gungans would be annihilated.

_I have underestimated Amidala’s ruthlessness. How could I have been so blind as to miss her dangerous determination of doing absolutely_ anything _to protect her people?_

Besides him, Jinn shuffled slightly. A small movement, it was enough to draw Mace away from his consternation. From the growing agitation emanating from the other Jedi, Mace knew a nasty confrontation was bound to occur if he did not do something quickly. “Motion for fifteen minutes caucus,” he ordered, and, giving the Queen a perfunctory bow, led the other Jedi out of the claustrophobic conference chamber. 

“I cannot believe that she basically suggested sending the Gungans to certain death!” exclaimed Clee Rhara when the six of them reached the end of the access corridor. “It is a sin to pitch sentient beings against droids like that.”

“But, Master, Queen Amidala wants to request the Gungan’s assistance. It is not as though she could force them to deploy their army,” interjected Rhara’s padawan. Too preoccupied by the current issue at hand, no one paid Garen Muln’s breach of decorum at publicly contradicting his master any heed.

Adi said, contemplatively, “Padawan Muln has a point. What is the chance of the Gungans agreeing to the Queen’s request?”

Having enlisted Jocasta’s assistance in researching the political organisations of the two races of Naboo before he had embarked on this voyage, Mace had a fairly good idea about just how likely the Gungans would fall for Amidala’s pleas.

“If I may, Masters?”

It was Kenobi. Curious as to whether the young man would arrive at the same conclusion as he, Mace indicated for him to proceed.

“The Gungan society is governed by an oligarchy in the form of a five-person council. The Council holds legislative, executive and military power. There is no institutionalised safeguards against the government’s abuse of authority. Disobedience is swiftly penalised with imprisonment and sometimes expulsion,” explained Kenobi. 

Mace found it disconcerting how closely Kenobi’s description of the Gungan government resembled a profile of the Jedi High Council.

“Unfortunately,” Kenobi continued, “members of the Gungan Council are more concerned with self-aggrandisement than with the people’s wellbeing. If Queen Amidala takes advantage of the Council’s vanity and pride, as I am sure she will, the Council could very well agree to mobilise its troops regardless of the action’s folly. The Gungan citizens would be helpless to stop it.” The part of Mace’s brain that wasn’t furiously considering the implications of the Jedi Council being so reminiscent of the Gungan government marvelled at his astute interpretation of the political dynamics. Indeed, now that Mace had learnt to recognise the ruthlessness beneath Amidala’s angelic face, he had no trouble imagining the young Queen beguile the Gungan Council with flattery, false promise and her particular brand of feminine charms.

Muln still appeared somewhat dazed by the turn of the event. Of all of them, Muln had the least experience with politicians and their skewed priorities, so the revelation of the Queen’s scheming came as the greatest shock to him. “Be it as you said, Obi-Wan,” Muln protested weakly, “Queen Amidala is the elected head of government. As such, she is honour-bound and legally obligated to ensure the safety of her citizens above anything else. She could hardly be blamed for her decision.”

“Oh, she could be blamed, all right,” Jinn spoke for the first time. He had been leaning against the wall, observing conversation in silence. Now all five pairs of eyes fastened upon him. Jinn took two steps toward Kenobi and pulled himself to his full height. Soft though his voice was, it nevertheless rang with the gravity of his condemnation. “Neither honour or obligation can confer moral worth upon her action. It is true that the Queen’s position bound her to the security of her people, but she also has moral duty to every other sentient beings. That duty includes treating other beings not as a tool to be used, but as persons whose lives deserve her respect and considerations. Her plan for the Gungans could be regarded as a legally legitimate move, but it certainly is not ethical.”

Abruptly, Mace was assaulted by a sensation that could only be described as a blaster bolt to the chest. (And he would know, having suffered it twice before.) He stood, frozen by the sheer magnitude and unexpectedness of his epiphany.

_I am no better than Amidala. Like her, I am sending Kenobi toward certain death, capitalising upon the knight’s loyalty and altruism to advance my own goal. True, my goal is to free a nation from Federation’s subjugation, but does that justify objectifying and possibly destroying someone as_ good _, as worthy as Kenobi?_

Intellectually, Mace had understood all these philosophical conflicts. He had learnt, pondered, debated and even wrote a thesis on the contradictions between deontology, act-based utilitarianism and rule-based utilitarianism. Yet, as he looked at Kenobi, whose fingers delicately skimmed across Jinn’s sleeves before coming to rest at the small of the master’s back — (‘Exactly what is his current relationship with Jinn, anyway?’) — Mace knew that no amount of lives saved by the sacrifice of Kenobi could banish the moral culpability he would feel for drafting this injured man in such a dangerous mission in the first place.

A formless horror welled up in his chest and threatened to inundate him. Mace placed a hand on the metal wall, grounding himself against the flood of guilt —guilt for deeds he had committed and deeds he would have to commit in the future. Much as he concurred with Jinn’s declaration about respecting sentient beings’ right against being used for other’s benefit, Mace knew that he had not the luxury of actually following such philosophy through. As the head of the Order, he held the fate of civilisations in his hands. And when the stacks were so high, and the price of failures so dear, he had no choice but to make those excruciating decisions over and over again. 

_Is nothing sacred in the face of cold calculation of utility?_ His heart despaired at the idea. _If I am willing to sacrifice a knight now, what would I place upon the altar of the greater good in the future, when more people are being threatened? Would I exploit vulnerable civilians, as Amidala does? Would I wage a war, if I believe it instrumental for peace?_

“I agree with Master Jinn that Queen Amidala’s proposal speaks ill of her character,” Adi’s voice penetrated Mace’s internal struggle. He listened to her with half an ear, his mind still reeling from the impact of the surprising revelation. “Nonetheless, we must remember that she is in all probabilities only trying to do her best in a difficult situation. The Queen is not a fundamentally immoral person, and she would most likely come to regret her decision in the future, when the fate of her people no longer weights on her heart. Therefore, while our oath of neutrality prevents us from unduly influencing her decision, I believe we are duty-bound to try dissuade her from it.”

“I do think you are right about the Queen. Yet, Master Gallia,” Rhara spread her hands in supplication, “is not our neutrality overrated in this instance? It is true that the Jedi has a reputation to maintain, but surly this situation warrants an exception. Six Jedi are more than sufficient to infiltrate the palace and bring the viceroy into custody, thereby sparing a contingent of Gungans from becoming cannon fodders to the Queen’s plan. Don’t you agree?” The last question was directed toward everyone.

When no response seemed forthcoming, Kenobi stepped forward with a bow toward Rhara. “With all due respect, Master Rhara,” he began smoothly, his voice pitched low to project serenity and non-combativeness, “with the return of the Sith, the Jedi’s neutrality has just become more critical than ever. To those unversed in the history of the Sith, they appear to be trained Force adepts, just as we are. Thus, in order to sustain the public’s faith in the Jedi, we must take care to uphold those tenets the express purposes of which are to ensure the legitimacy of our service. Although a temporary suspension of our principle of neutrality would result in tremendous public good, but it would undermine strength of the Jedi’s conviction and our public perception. In the long term it would prove disastrous for both the Order and the people we protect.”

The others murmured their agreement with Kenobi, but Mace did not hear any of those. Kenobi’s words had echoed with a kernel of Truth, one that rippled and spread in the Force, reaching across the boundaries of space and time. 

_The knight is right in more ways than he knows._

Mace almost laughed aloud in relief when he realise that he, a man normally so immersed in the way of the Unifying Force, had become entrapped by the circumstances of the present to the point that he nearly neglected the distant but no less tangible future.

_There is the greater good for today, and then there is the greater good for tomorrow. Danger, death, loss of freedom or livelihood all seem immensely urgent_ now _, but they are nonetheless transient conditions. Abandoning all principles of justice, renouncing all sacred duties might maximise the utility of the Moment, but it would demolish the essential moral compass by which the future generations would be guided. Ultimately, only respect for the sanctity of personhood could create a world worth living in. It was unwise of me to have lost sight of that._

His realisation was accompanied by a sweet, harmonious note in the Force. “We will follow Master Gallia’s recommendation,” Mace asserted, feeling tranquility and a startling clarity of purpose replacing his earlier despair, “and do our best to discourage Queen Amidala from perpetrating this act of desperation. We will demonstrate our compassion and sympathy for her untenable situation, but hold firm against her exploitation of the Gungan government’s weakness.” His statement seemed to be exactly what the others had been waiting for. Mace felt their relief at having his endorsement at the course of action that, Mace felt fore sure, they would have attempted regardless.

They smiled at each other, united in their shared faith and cause.

And after the meeting, Mace decided, he would again ask Kenobi whether he was really up to such strenuous task. He would tell the young man that the capture of the Sith is not worth the endangerment of his life, and he would be speaking the truth. Secure in his own conviction, Mace straightened his tunics and beckoned for the others to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for updating two months later than promised.
> 
> This chapter has been exceedingly difficult to write, not only because I've been trying to juggle it together with coursework and exams, but because it deals with very weighty subject matters. I've been trying to rationalise the Jedi Order's involvement in the Separatist war. It occurs to me that the Jedi have a very act-based utilitarian outlook, and that is what I sought to change in this chapter.
> 
> In Episode II, the Jedi join the Republic Forces partially because they face great pressure from the Senate, and partially because they could detect the Darkness at work and want to end the conflicts as quickly as possible. In doing so, however, the Jedi essentially betray their long-held tenet of neutrality and pacifism. That abandonment of principle is the first step toward their downfall. Through Mace's crisis of faith, I hope to convey the ideological clash between Jeremy Bentham's utilitarianism, John Stuart Mill's utilitarianism and Immanuel Kant's deontology. That Mace ultimately settled upon the middle path, so to speak, reflects my belief that only such a change of heart would prevent the Jedi from taking up arms.
> 
> The other thing I attempt to highlight in this chapter is the darker side of Padme's character. It occurs to me that Padme has an overwhelmingly positive portrayal, despite the fact that her persuasion of the Gungan Council is one of the most insidious scenes I've seen in Episode I. (Am I the only one that noticed the scene's resemblance to early Western settler's interaction with aboriginals? The deliberate flattery. The pretence of self-debasement. Oh dear.) Although I do admire her bravery and intelligence, Padme does have a calculating side that is often ignored by the audience. 
> 
> Anyway, I pray I've gotten the philosophy parts more or less right. Kant and Mill both offer terrible reads. Perhaps it's just the German translation.


	7. The Leviathan: a preview to the next chapter

 

"We do not have the necessary manpower to assist the Gungans," said Mace Windu.

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head. "We have those monsters in the lake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait!
> 
> In anticipation for the next chapter (which is under reconstruction), I thought I'd publish the sketch I've drawn for the oncoming battle.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Star Wars fanfic, so please be gentle but generous with feedbacks. This is a shameless Phantom Menace fix-it, in which most characters act with strength and wisdom that befit a Jedi. Anakin, incidentally, wants power and glory in a way that only 9 years old could. Mace is just a tiny bit jealous. It is inspired by “Out of Balance” by Anne Higgins, "Inheritance" by ruth baulding, and "Six Lessons" by mtforsty.


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